


For His Majesty

by Nununununu



Category: Original Work
Genre: (Break The Haughty), Asshole Spanking, Cock & Ball Torture, Don't copy to another site, Forced Arousal, Forced Eye Contact, Forced Orgasm, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, M/M, Object Insertion, Object Penetration, Oral Sex, Penetration with hilt of weapon, Sex Toys, Sexual Slavery, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25023919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nununununu/pseuds/Nununununu
Summary: The palace sex slave trainer has long watched the Hero in secret, and wanted.None of this is about that.
Relationships: Dutiful Slave Trainer/War Hero turned Sex Slave, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 18
Kudos: 290
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	For His Majesty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elpollodiablo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elpollodiablo/gifts).



> For elpollodiablo :)
> 
> (Originally posted 05/07; updated for author reveals)

The former Hero stands before him, stripped of sword, shield and warrior’s loincloth, attentive bathhouse slaves sluicing away the blood and dust of battle, scrubbing skin darkening with bruises. He submits to it in a way he hasn’t submitted to anything before that Kirian has heard of; he submits to it because he must.

“You know why you are here,” Kirian keeps his voice deceptively calm. Soft. Many new slaves come here skittish; it is his job to ensure they are prepared for what awaits them. After all, the King’s displeasure will come down on his head if he finds them resisting.

And besides, this work is his duty.

“To serve His Majesty,” the Hero’s answer is simple, with a large amount of offended ire, “I have _always_ served His Majesty –”

“Speaking out of turn,” Straightening up to his full impressive height, Kirian snaps his fan shut. The bathhouse slaves dutifully bow and remove themselves without sound. He frowns at the Hero, “Turn around and place your hands against the bench. Lean over.”

“What –” The Hero starts, then remembers the precarious nature of his position. Reluctantly, he turns. The bench is low – to place his hands on it, he must stoop. Kirian places a hand on the back to the man’s head and exerts pressure, folding him further down.

The Hero’s ass is well presented like that, especially when Kirian next kicks his feet apart. He hears a faint grunt and a tremor goes through thick muscles. The Hero’s broad hands tense against the bench.

“A lesson,” Setting aside his fan, Kirian uses finger and thumb to pull the man’s ass cheeks apart and inspect his hole, “Never speak out of turn.”

He brings the flat of his other hand down upon that exposed asshole, a sharp crack, and feels another jerk; hears another grunt. The Hero clearly starts to object.

“Second lesson,” Kirian presses his lips together in disapproval, “His Majesty does not tolerate disrespect or rule breaking.” He spanks that asshole another five times, listening to the way the man huffs and struggle to control his breathing, but manages not to further react.

“Better,” Kirian acknowledges and, because the opportunity is there and it will save time when it comes to later training, selects one of the curved stone phalli from the tray of toys set out in order of size and type by the bathhouse slaves, dips it into glistening oil, and works it into the reddened asshole without warning, placing the flat of his hand against the Hero’s lower back to feel the way the man stiffens at the shock and struggle not to speak.

“Do you think His Majesty will appreciate a slave who cannot take his cock?” He comments when the Hero’s body attempts to reject the intrusion. He removes the phallus, drips further oil over the flexing asshole, slides it in again, deeper this time, taking care to drag the rounded head of the toy up against the prostate.

The Hero jerks, his thighs shaking, but he remembers not to reply.

“You should thank me for using the oil,” Kirian absently sets forth to fucking the man with the toy, no longer bothering to aim for his prostate, before whipping it out the instance he senses resistance melt into something closer to acceptance.

Not want.

He has no impression that the Hero or any other slave who learns under his watchful gaze actually desires any of what happens to them. But there is a point where the body must either fight or reluctantly accept, and His Majesty has no care for the former.

Kirian leaves that hole to spasm around sudden emptiness for a second while he selects a much thicker phallus and pushes it in without ado.

The Hero howls.

“Lesson three –”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the man blurts, panting, and shudders when Kirian removes the toy to deliver a harder spank than before to that asshole.

“If I am forced to remind you to be silent again, you will not appreciate what happens,” The warning is silky smooth. There are no few other toys His Majesty enjoys on such occasions – Kirian selects a deadly long handled knife, beautifully crafted, and whispers the blade over the Hero’s buttocks so the man knows what is touching him, before reversing his grip and slipping the handle inside the man.

“Do not allow that to fall,” Removing his fingers from the man’s ass, Kirian watches the panicked tremble pass over the Hero’s skin before the muscles in his ass obligingly clamp down, “Turn around.”

Gasping faintly, it takes the Hero some time to remove his white-knuckled hands from the bench, but he manages to turn without dropping the knife. His massive scarred chest is rising and falling rapidly, cock flushed with a small amount of blood between his legs, an involuntary reaction.

Sometimes they send Kirian slaves who enjoy such treatment. Sometimes he has an accident with the knife or some other item to spare them the King’s wrath, given his own shoulders will also feel the lash as a result afterwards.

“His Majesty disapproves of both voluntary arousal and resistance,” Feeling generous, Kirian informs the man as he takes hold of that cock, hearing the Hero’s breath catch all over again. Dragging his fingers down its soft length to pinch the head as gently as he speaks, he repeats this over and over until blood is filling it out further, nodding when this takes an acceptably long amount of time. “Do not clench your jaw,” he informs the Hero, pumping that hardening cock with more vigour, “And remove that expression in your eyes. His Majesty will not appreciate those things.”

Fury contorts the Hero’s face for a mere moment, but Kirian sees it.

“Turn around,” he releases that cock, letting it drop to slap against a muscled thigh, “Lean over and brace yourself.”

After a second in which Kirian prepares to use any of the other weapons displayed on the tray alongside the toys, the Hero turns.

The knife pops out of his hole as he leans over, hands back on the bench. Kirian reinserts the large phallus without gentleness, pleased when the Hero restrains his gasp, obviously having expected spanking.

“Turn back around,” Kirian waits until he has done so, “Sit down on the bench.”

The Hero is unused to controlling his emotions – Kirian has witnessed him in re-enactments of his battles, cheered on by the common people as the King observes from his tent, fondling his latest slave.

He doesn’t succeed in controlling his moan when Kirian pushes his knees open to crouch down between them and draws the man’s cock into his mouth.

He has much practice in doing this. He sucks hard, forces further arousal on the man; sucks until saliva is running down the shaft mingled with precome.

Then he pulls his mouth abruptly off the straining cock, grasps it with his hand instead – and yanks it in a way that can’t possibly be pleasant.

The Hero nearly comes off the bench with the force of his yell. Only the sharp point of the knife Kirian moves to press against his thigh holds him in place.

“You are useless,” Kirian keeps his voice as even as if he were commenting on the weather or some other such bland mundanity. He goes back to pumping the man, the cock having lost a fair amount of its hardness, before giving it another hard tug, pressing the edge of his thumbnail in against the slit, “His Majesty can and will do anything he wishes to you. He might choose to take this knife and put it inside you blade first –”

Managing to stop himself just before shaking his head, the Hero squeezes his eyes shut instead.

“Open them,” Kirian tugs that cock a third time, slowly this time, increasing his grip around the base of the head until the man’s nostrils flare and his lips shake, “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

Blinking hard, the Hero pants and trembles, then does. A small shock goes off deep inside Kirian at the eye contact. It is of utmost necessity that His Majesty has no idea of it, but he has long followed the Hero’s triumphs with secret fascination. He has always admired this man. Just the thought of touching him makes Kirian’s own skin too tight, his own thighs shake; he is almost giddy with it.

There is no space in this room or in this palace or in this country for such sentiments. He acknowledges them, forces himself to continue despite them, and then crushes them down.

“Better,” Kirian says softly, and removes the knife – he can do that much for the Hero, at least – and bends his head to take that cock into his mouth again, pressing his tongue hard against the sensitive vein before lapping at the tip, sucking the head with ever greater fervour while squeezing the shaft with his hand until the man seems to lose track of what is pleasure and what is pain, and comes off hard without a sound.

His expression is a ruin when Kirian acknowledges it, something much like pleading in the man’s gaze.

_Don't make me do this anymore,_ that look says.

“Lesson number four,” Kirian replies blandly, and continues.


End file.
